“Why not?” He took her hand and squeezed. She didn’t know what to do so she squeezed back. His whole face lit up, which, if you thought about it, was a weird thing to happen when discussing such a serious problem. “Isn’t this the kind of thing Sidebotham and Ducey—I mean Darktower—are supposed to be teaching us?”
“Not like this,” she said. “I think you’re grasping at straws.” He was, and it was because Nick was around and he wasn’t thinking straight. That much was obvious. Holmes was always volatile when Nick was in the picture. Except the more she thought about the idea, the more logical it seemed.
“I can see the wheels turning,” he said, watching her closely.
He was good at reading her. She just hoped he couldn’t read too deeply. “Scapulus,” she said, disentangling her hand from his and pretending to scratch an itch. “What if Waltz really is working with Blixus?”
He seemed to be waiting for her to finish scratching so he could take her hand again. Either that or he was finding the act of scratching fascinating, because he kept watching her do it. “Then we’ll have to do something about him, won’t we?”
And then suddenly she just had to know. It was a stupid move but she couldn’t help herself.
She leaned toward him. “You know when we were in town and Waltz took the pages from us?”
He mirrored her. The two of them were so close together you could scarcely get a piece of paper between them. “Yes.”
“Did you ever think of beating him up?”
Holmes sat up straight and frowned. “Why would you think a thing like that? You know I’m not violent. Anyway the guy is huge.”
“It’s nothing,” she said. “I was just wondering.”
I DON’T HAVE ANY DEEP, DARK SECRETS
“I need to get my mom out of here,” Amanda said to Simon, Ivy, and their friend Clive in the common room when they’d returned from the Christmas holidays. They’d got back almost as early as Holmes. Amanda had spent Christmas at Legatum, as far away from Banting Waltz as possible, so she was already there when the other students arrived.
Today’s common room theme was the legendary Globe Theatre. The décor gremlins had done a great job. They even tried to make it seem like the room was outside, with sky overhead. Shakespeare would have been proud.
“That’s a terrible thing to say,” said Clive.
“No, you don’t understand,” said Amanda, pacing the stage. “She’s a security risk. And besides that, she’s done some awful things.”
“Like what?” said Simon in his usual challenging way. If anybody was going to ask for specifics it would be Simon. He was leaning back on an uncomfortable seat with one foot on the other knee as if he were holding very casual court.
“You can’t tell anyone,” said Amanda, stopping center stage. She looked as if she were about to deliver a soliloquy. Ivy nodded, Clive zipped his lip, and Simon shrugged, which in his position was a neat trick. She lowered her voice. “She poisoned the peacocks.”
“What!” said Simon, straightening.
“OMG!” said Ivy.
“No way!” said Clive.
“Shh,” said Amanda. “No one can know.”
“Whyever not?” said Simon. He was obviously outraged.
“Because,” said Amanda. “She’ll blame me.”
“Blame you because she poisoned the peacocks?” said Clive, petting Nigel gingerly. “I don’t see the logic in that.”
“You don’t know her like I do,” said Amanda. “Trust me, she’ll blame me for getting her in trouble and who knows what she’ll do to me. She might even pull me out of Legatum.”
“That’s terrible,” said Ivy. Nigel seemed to agree because he gave a single sharp yip. “Are you sure it wasn’t an accident?”
“Positive,” said Amanda. “She admitted it. She said they were distracting me from my studies.”
“That isn’t nice,” said Simon, joining the Nigel love fest. Now there were three of them petting the dog. “Also not true.”
“I know that,” said Amanda. “But there’s more, and I swear if you tell anyone I will reveal all your deepest, darkest secrets.”
“I don’t have dark secrets,” said Clive.
“Me either,” said Simon.
“Yes you do,” said Ivy.
“Do not,” said Simon.
“Everyone has deep, dark secrets,” said Ivy. “Even kids.”
“You wish,” said Simon.
“Shut up,” said Amanda. “This is important.”
“Sorry,” said Clive.
“My mom was the one who poked holes in the helmet we used at Taffeta’s castle. She was trying to kill Nick. As you know, she almost killed me.”
“NO!” yelled Ivy. Nigel looked startled and barked. “Shh, Nigel, it’s okay.” She stroked the dog’s ear and he calmed down.
“No way!” Clive said.
“She should be boiled in oil!” Simon said. Then, realizing he’d said something over the top, he looked around sheepishly, but no one was paying attention.
“Shh,” said Amanda. “Keep your voices down.”
“Amanda, that was a criminal act,” said Ivy sternly. “Thrillkill needs to know.”
A look of frustration passed over Amanda’s face. “And trying to kill the peacocks wasn’t?”
“Oh, I see what you mean,” said Ivy. “But the difference with the helmet is that she could go to jail.”
“Don’t you think I know that?” Amanda wailed.
“We should do something,” said Simon, standing up and almost tripping over his own feet. He reached out a hand to steady himself, but the only place to put it was Clive’s head so he hopped until he was upright.
“Like what?” said Ivy.
“We need to get her fired,” said Amanda. “In a way she can’t trace back to me . . . or you guys.”
“That hardly begins . . .” said Clive. “Anyway, it’s pretty drastic.”
“I know,” said Amanda. “But there are other considerations.”
“Uh oh,” said Ivy. She stopped petting Nigel and lifted her head. “You’d better tell us.”
So Amanda told them about Waltz, from stealing the Bible pages to the banana scandal. The kids sat there with their mouths hanging open. Simon was shaking his head, which led to a bit of drooling he didn’t even try to hide. When she’d finished her tale, he took his seat again and the three of them sat as stiff as statues.
“Somebody say something, please,” said Amanda.
“It sounds like he’s the one we need to go after,” said Ivy. “Banting Waltz, I mean. He’s obviously brainwashed your mum.”
“Yes and no,” said Simon.
“What do you mean?” said Ivy.
“Yes we need to go after him, and no he hasn’t brainwashed Professor Lester.”
“You sound pretty sure of yourself,” said Ivy.
“All right,” said Simon, lifting a leg and resting his elbow on his knee. “I’m going to take a risk here.”
“This is new?” said Amanda, stepping down from the stage and taking a seat.
“Of course it is,” said Simon feigning indignation. “I’ve never done anything like this before.”
“Like what?” said Clive with a waver in his voice. Amanda looked over at him. Was his face going red?
“I’m going to be honest,” said Simon. “Well, I’m always honest but I’m going to be brutally honest. Well, I’m always brutally honest but—”
“Just get on with it,” said Ivy.
“Are you sure—” said Clive.
“Okay, fine,” said Simon, ignoring his best friend. “But don’t say I didn’t warn you.” Amanda rolled her eyes and he stuck his tongue out.
“That’s rude,” said Ivy.
“How did you know?” said Simon, trying to look at his own tongue.
“I heard you,” said Ivy. “Now out with it.”
“Okay, ready?” Amanda and Ivy nodded. Clive didn’t seem so sure. “Professor Lester is not a nice person.” He sat
back and waited for a reaction.
“And what’s the brutal honesty?” said Amanda.
“Just that,” said Simon. “Your mother is a bad person.”
“We all know that,” said Amanda.
He frowned. “We do?”
“Of course we do,” said Amanda, rising and facing the three of them. Nigel looked up at her guiltily, or at least it seemed that way. “How long have you known me? A year?”
“Yes, but—”
“And how long have I been complaining about my mom?”
“A year, but—”
“Well?” said Amanda. “Can you honestly say you’re surprised about any of this?”
“Actually yes,” said Simon, sitting up straight. “Let me be perfectly honest.”
Amanda sighed. “Fine. Say it.”
“Your mum is a very inflexible person.”
“Duh,” said Amanda.
“Furthermore,” said Simon, “she’s very self-involved. Which is not to say she isn’t a talented writer.”
“You don’t have to sugar-coat it,” said Amanda. “A person can be both.”
“Very well,” said Simon. “She’s kind of evil.”
“I know!” said Amanda. “She could have killed me. She almost did.”
“But she was sorry,” said Ivy.
“Nope,” said Amanda. “She said she’d do it again in a heartbeat.”
“That’s wicked,” said Clive.
“She should be arrested,” said Simon.
“Oh right,” said Amanda. “And then what? The first thing she’d do is send me to reform school.”
“She wouldn’t do that,” said Ivy.
“She’s threatened to many times,” said Amanda.
The three kids looked absolutely shocked. Then Ivy stood and put her arms around Amanda. Not to be outdone, Nigel sat on Amanda’s feet.
“I didn’t know it was that bad,” said Ivy.
“Well now you do,” said Amanda. “I don’t want you to feel sorry for me though. I just want some help.”
“You’ve got it,” said Simon. “Always.”
“Yes, always,” said Clive.
“And us,” said Ivy, motioning to Nigel.
“Thank you, you guys,” said Amanda. “You know how much I love you.” It felt good to have her friends there.
After that Holmes joined them and brought the others up to date about Waltz, the spiders whose venom acted like truth serum, and the biggest news of all, the reason Lovelace Earful had created The Detective’s Bible in the first place, which was contained in the invisible writing on the page Amanda had found.
“It all comes down to Edgar Allan Poe,” he said in a hush.
“One of Legatum’s houses is named after his detective C. Auguste Lupin,” said Simon. “So what?”
“So this,” said Holmes, glancing at Amanda for no reason she could discern. “Poe spilled the beans.”
“I don’t understand,” said Ivy.
“No one does,” said Holmes. “Everything was going along fine until he published those stories.”
“I’m lost,” said Simon. “What do Poe and his stories have to do with Lovelace Earful?”
“Plenty,” said Holmes. “Actually, everything.”
“Well, would you get on with it already?” said Simon.
Holmes glared at him. “If you would just listen for a moment.” Simon glared right back. They had a staring contest for a moment, but he looked away first. Amanda knew he couldn’t win in a fight against Holmes.
“Here’s what happened,” Holmes said.
He got up and closed the door. Then he sat down between Amanda and Ivy, forcing them to move to accommodate him. Nigel looked up at Ivy as if to say, “Was that okay? Because I don’t think it was.”
Holmes clasped his hands together and leaned forward. “The first thing Earful’s parents taught him when he was small was that he had been born into a secret brotherhood of detectives that had existed for millennia. They stressed that his mission in life was to fight an equally ancient secret brotherhood of criminals. You see, the whole struggle between the two goes back as far as humanity itself.”
Amanda couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “I know there’s always been good and evil, but you’re saying there are organizations on both sides that have lasted for thousands of years? When did they start?”
“It doesn’t say,” said Holmes. “Not on the page we found. The implication is that we’re talking at least Egyptian times.”
“Wow,” said Ivy. “I don’t think I can get my head around that.”
“Me either,” said Clive. “That’s awesome.”
“I’m not surprised,” said Simon stubbornly. “It’s a logical conclusion. Things have to start sometime.”
Holmes shot him a look. “Yes, well, anyway, because of the high level of secrecy on both sides, none of this ever came to light—until someone made a mistake and our existence leaked out. That someone was Edgar Allan Poe.”
“Hang on,” said Simon. “What do you mean ‘our’?”
“We’re all part of it,” said Holmes.
“So the ancestor thing isn’t just the last hundred and fifty years?” said Ivy.
“No,” said Holmes. “That’s what I’m trying to tell you. Our bloodlines go way, way back.”
“Which is why the teachers don’t want to let Eustace into Legatum,” said Amanda.
“Yes,” said Holmes. “They’re misguided, but that seems to be the logic.”
“I don’t see what Poe has to do with this,” said Clive.
“I’m getting to that,” said Holmes. “Poe’s stories are widely considered the first detective stories. Before that, not much was known about us. But they were so popular that other writers began to copy him, and before they could be stopped, everyone knew about us. All our work, all our traditions that had remained secret for millennia were now out in the open, and it became much more difficult for us to operate.”
“All because of some stories?” said Ivy.
“Stories are very powerful,” said Amanda. “Scapulus’s Sherlock story got Blixus to confess.”
“I wouldn’t go that far,” said Holmes. “But I agree that stories are powerful.”
Amanda flashed Simon a smug look.
“Hey,” said Simon. “I didn’t say they weren’t.”
“I know what you were thinking,” said Amanda.
“Guys, listen,” said Holmes. “I’m trying to explain this. When people started talking about us, Earful was appalled and wanted to do something to help. His conundrum was how to keep us effective with everyone watching, criticizing, and revealing our secrets. After contemplating the situation for several years, he finally decided to use his considerable intelligence to create new secrets that no one could ever find out about—secrets that could keep us effective. He also founded Legatum.”
“So that’s it,” said Clive. “Brilliant.”
“There’s a bit more to it than that,” said Holmes. “Earful foresaw that because of Poe, detectives would gain celebrity status and he wanted to prepare. I know I said that people started to copy Poe, but actually, it took a while before there was any buzz—decades, actually.”
“I see where you’re going with this,” said Ivy. “It’s not just a question of exposing us. It’s a question of new pressures and new enemies, isn’t it?”
“Exactly,” said Holmes. “There would also be new internal problems.”
“You mean within the detectives?” said Amanda.
“Yes. Now it would be possible for detectives to be tempted by fame. Corrupted, if you will. We saw that with Taffeta. That’s exactly what happened to her.”
“You mean because she started out being a detective,” said Ivy.
“Yes, and she was lured over to the dark side by a desire for power and fame, or at least that’s what it seems,” said Holmes. “I’m not really sure.”
“I think she was always weird,” said Ivy. “Fern told me some stuff
.”
“We can talk about that later,” said Holmes. “The point is this: Earful put all his solutions—that is, his new secrets, which he personally devised—into The Detective’s Bible. Ways of disappearing, or seeming to. Ways to combat ego. Extreme mental techniques. Communications, security. This information was so sensitive, so critical, that it was revealed only to the most worthy of detectives—those who had graduated from Legatum and proven themselves out in the world. But they wouldn’t get all the information at once. They’d have to prove themselves over and over again, and each time they’d be told a little more. Only a few detectives ever get to see most of it, and as we know, some of the secrets are still undeciphered. These are thought to be the most powerful weapons the detectives have, but since no one has ever seen them, they can’t be sure.”
He sat back and waited for the others’ reaction. Amanda caught his eye, and for a moment something else entirely passed between them. Then it was gone.
“I can’t believe it,” said Ivy. “Thousands of years.”
“I have to say I’m impressed,” said Simon, astonishing everyone. He looked around at his friends. “What?”
“That’s quite a compliment, Simon,” said Amanda. “Nothing impresses you.”
“Au contraire,” said Simon. “Lots of things impress me.”
“Name one,” said Ivy.
“My history machine,” said Simon.
“Oh brother,” said Amanda.
“But aside from being impressed, what do you think?” said Holmes. “Now you see what’s at stake?”
“This is huge,” said Clive. “Way huger than we thought.”
“Yes,” said Holmes. “So it’s even more critical that we find the rest of the book and keep it away from Waltz—and Blixus.”
“They may already have it,” said Ivy.
“Perhaps,” said Holmes. “But I don’t think so. They’re not acting as if they do.”
“I think you’re right,” said Simon. “Blixus seems to rely on Hugh to pull off his crazy schemes. We’ve seen no sign that he’s aware of the contents of the Bible.”
“But Waltz has those two pages now,” said Amanda. “If he can crack them he’ll know as much as we do. We’ve got to keep that from happening.”
Amanda Lester and the Red Spider Rumpus Page 4